Column and forgiveness.
My apologies for the terribly sporadic blogging. I've gone through yet more changes lately that I hope to write about soon. To my three devoted readers and their 17 distinct personalities I express my heartfelt appreciation for your support.
Tonight I received a nice compliment. A little background: I'd heard rumors that the Dean of my college hates the school paper. He apparently believes much of it to be nonsensical, poorly-written, incendiary garbage...and I can't say I disagree.
My Creative Writing instructor told the class that for the first time - EVER - the Dean came out of his office and praised a column. Namely mine, the column "Non-Traditional Values" which I debuted in the first edition of the semester. Even though it was far from my best work, it nonetheless made me feel I was correct in my hunch that forsaking politics in favor of humor was a good move.
Which, ironically, leads to this Gazette column which I'm almost embarrassed by because it just doesn't "click." The good news is that this week my synapses have begun firing once again and I believe things will start to improve again.
So, there you go. I hope you're all well.
GAZETTE COLUMN
I’m a single computer keystroke away from $3,600.
No, I’m not forwarding a chain e-mail to 10 of my friends guaranteeing me financial prosperity. No, I’m not replying to a “spam” e-mail from a foreign corporation promising me a million dollars if I provide my credit card numbers and bank account information. And no, I’m not activating my adult website http://www.mediocre_columnists_gone_wild.com/ allowing you—for only $19.99 per month—the privilege of watching yours truly type these hysterical yet insightful columns wearing nothing but a smile.
Rather, I’m about to file my taxes electronically, and as I stare at the estimated refund of $3,600 I can scarcely believe my eyes.
That’s because this marks the first year my wife and I haven’t done “something stupid,” to use her words, resulting in us being burned by the taxman.
It’s important to note that the government’s definition of “something stupid” differs greatly from that of normal folks; i.e. people with hearts, souls and consciences. In our case, “something stupid” meant doing what we had to in order to stay alive.
For instance, two years ago I suffered a back injury that left me barely able to stand. For nearly six weeks, extending my arm in what looked unsettlingly like a permanent Nazi salute was necessary in order to alleviate pressure on a ruptured disc. This, of course, didn’t go over well in certain circles, but on the plus side it allowed me to work undercover for the Gazette exposing the seedy underbelly of the St. Croix Valley’s small but determined white supremacy movement. Needless to say I couldn’t work and therefore cashed in my meager 401K in order to survive. We paid dearly in taxes as a result.
The second year we were together it was my wife’s turn to do the “stupid thing:” She got laid off. This necessitated her liquidating her 401K, and being selfish we used the money for luxuries like rent and Ramen noodles rather than immediately set aside Uncle Sam’s generous portion of the loot. So again, at year’s end, we paid through the nose.
It’s the height of irony that government penalizes people for cashing in their retirement funds early, yet taxes capital gains and interest if those same people save and invest wisely. And it’s adding insult to injury drawing no distinction between people using their 401Ks to take a trip to Mazatlan vs. staving off homelessness.
As I face the prospect of a sizeable tax refund, I feel considerable guilt for previously scolding others for bragging about their refunds. “You’re giving the government a 12-month, interest-free loan,” I admonished, “If you’d have invested that money in an IRA—or even an interest-bearing savings account—you’d have come out further ahead.”
If. As my dad used to eloquently say, “If the dog hadn’t stopped to lick himself, he’d have caught the cat.” I’m the type of person who can’t keep a $10 bill in my pocket for 24 hours without blowing it at Starbucks on two Vente caramel high rises (with an extra shot of espresso, of course). If I’d have had access to $3,600 over the past twelve months, I’d have bought his-and-hers Ipods, several tattoos and all of Eminem’s concert videos and CDs. Well, maybe not that last one, but I sure wouldn’t have put any of it in the bank. I’m not recommending using the income tax system as a savings program, but if you have an immediate gratification problem like me, it’s a nice alternative.
As I prepared my tax return, I thought about how many times I’ve heard the “tax cuts for the rich” mantra over the past year. I wonder how many members of the class-envy crowd will discover, like I did, that tax cuts have indeed trickled down to the middle (in our case, lower-middle) class this year. I’m a proponent of a flat tax and look forward to the day when a single postcard will take the place of a voluminous, forest-depleting tax return. That said, I experienced considerable delight when discovering that apparently, some Senate sub-sub-subcommittee on taxation approved several deductions tailored specifically for yours truly during closed-door sessions last year. I may not be getting the same breaks as Bush’s oil company cronies, but I’m truly thankful for the $3,600 bone I’ve been tossed.
So here I sit—index finger hovering over the “Enter” key, one click away from a turning point in my life— wondering if it’s too good to be true. I’ve checked, double-checked and triple-checked every line and box. I’m relatively certain I haven’t lied intentionally. I have 90 days during which I can second-guess myself, or I can hit “Enter” and have three grand deposited into my checking account within weeks, hoping that if there are any discrepancies I’ll be looked at as a small fish and therefore be given a pass.
“Enter” it is. Let the Ipod shopping begin.
Tonight I received a nice compliment. A little background: I'd heard rumors that the Dean of my college hates the school paper. He apparently believes much of it to be nonsensical, poorly-written, incendiary garbage...and I can't say I disagree.
My Creative Writing instructor told the class that for the first time - EVER - the Dean came out of his office and praised a column. Namely mine, the column "Non-Traditional Values" which I debuted in the first edition of the semester. Even though it was far from my best work, it nonetheless made me feel I was correct in my hunch that forsaking politics in favor of humor was a good move.
Which, ironically, leads to this Gazette column which I'm almost embarrassed by because it just doesn't "click." The good news is that this week my synapses have begun firing once again and I believe things will start to improve again.
So, there you go. I hope you're all well.
GAZETTE COLUMNI’m a single computer keystroke away from $3,600.
No, I’m not forwarding a chain e-mail to 10 of my friends guaranteeing me financial prosperity. No, I’m not replying to a “spam” e-mail from a foreign corporation promising me a million dollars if I provide my credit card numbers and bank account information. And no, I’m not activating my adult website http://www.mediocre_columnists_gone_wild.com/ allowing you—for only $19.99 per month—the privilege of watching yours truly type these hysterical yet insightful columns wearing nothing but a smile.
Rather, I’m about to file my taxes electronically, and as I stare at the estimated refund of $3,600 I can scarcely believe my eyes.
That’s because this marks the first year my wife and I haven’t done “something stupid,” to use her words, resulting in us being burned by the taxman.
It’s important to note that the government’s definition of “something stupid” differs greatly from that of normal folks; i.e. people with hearts, souls and consciences. In our case, “something stupid” meant doing what we had to in order to stay alive.
For instance, two years ago I suffered a back injury that left me barely able to stand. For nearly six weeks, extending my arm in what looked unsettlingly like a permanent Nazi salute was necessary in order to alleviate pressure on a ruptured disc. This, of course, didn’t go over well in certain circles, but on the plus side it allowed me to work undercover for the Gazette exposing the seedy underbelly of the St. Croix Valley’s small but determined white supremacy movement. Needless to say I couldn’t work and therefore cashed in my meager 401K in order to survive. We paid dearly in taxes as a result.
The second year we were together it was my wife’s turn to do the “stupid thing:” She got laid off. This necessitated her liquidating her 401K, and being selfish we used the money for luxuries like rent and Ramen noodles rather than immediately set aside Uncle Sam’s generous portion of the loot. So again, at year’s end, we paid through the nose.
It’s the height of irony that government penalizes people for cashing in their retirement funds early, yet taxes capital gains and interest if those same people save and invest wisely. And it’s adding insult to injury drawing no distinction between people using their 401Ks to take a trip to Mazatlan vs. staving off homelessness.
As I face the prospect of a sizeable tax refund, I feel considerable guilt for previously scolding others for bragging about their refunds. “You’re giving the government a 12-month, interest-free loan,” I admonished, “If you’d have invested that money in an IRA—or even an interest-bearing savings account—you’d have come out further ahead.”
If. As my dad used to eloquently say, “If the dog hadn’t stopped to lick himself, he’d have caught the cat.” I’m the type of person who can’t keep a $10 bill in my pocket for 24 hours without blowing it at Starbucks on two Vente caramel high rises (with an extra shot of espresso, of course). If I’d have had access to $3,600 over the past twelve months, I’d have bought his-and-hers Ipods, several tattoos and all of Eminem’s concert videos and CDs. Well, maybe not that last one, but I sure wouldn’t have put any of it in the bank. I’m not recommending using the income tax system as a savings program, but if you have an immediate gratification problem like me, it’s a nice alternative.
As I prepared my tax return, I thought about how many times I’ve heard the “tax cuts for the rich” mantra over the past year. I wonder how many members of the class-envy crowd will discover, like I did, that tax cuts have indeed trickled down to the middle (in our case, lower-middle) class this year. I’m a proponent of a flat tax and look forward to the day when a single postcard will take the place of a voluminous, forest-depleting tax return. That said, I experienced considerable delight when discovering that apparently, some Senate sub-sub-subcommittee on taxation approved several deductions tailored specifically for yours truly during closed-door sessions last year. I may not be getting the same breaks as Bush’s oil company cronies, but I’m truly thankful for the $3,600 bone I’ve been tossed.
So here I sit—index finger hovering over the “Enter” key, one click away from a turning point in my life— wondering if it’s too good to be true. I’ve checked, double-checked and triple-checked every line and box. I’m relatively certain I haven’t lied intentionally. I have 90 days during which I can second-guess myself, or I can hit “Enter” and have three grand deposited into my checking account within weeks, hoping that if there are any discrepancies I’ll be looked at as a small fish and therefore be given a pass.
“Enter” it is. Let the Ipod shopping begin.
posted by Admin Worm at 7:33 PM
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